


Floating

by ladykillerz



Category: Blur (Band)
Genre: Angst, Grumpy Graham, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Justine is nice I promise don't hate her, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:49:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22557409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladykillerz/pseuds/ladykillerz
Summary: ...when you’re floating you can either take yourself up or you can drown. You can’t be floating for too long, your body simply can’t handle it.
Relationships: Damon Albarn/Graham Coxon, Damon Albarn/Justine Frischmann
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Floating

**Author's Note:**

> This came about in the way that I let my own feelings "flow" (ugh pretentious much) and then felt like I wanted to do something with what I had written (the first part). And what is better than some angsty gramon :)) 
> 
> Also I guess it's an AU because I don't really know when it's supposed to be set. I think I imagined Parklife era tho and I don't know how much sense that makes with the real time line so it's an AU I guess...
> 
> Hope you like it <33

**_It’s in a haze. Everything is just passing in front of my eyes like city lights on a highway. It’s not necessarily a bad thing._ **

**_When you are in that haze you can’t feel your actual feelings. It’s like you’re floating. Neither drowning nor resting on a cloud in the sky._ **

**_Floating also means the risk is smaller that you crash. You can’t crash if you don’t have anything to crash from._ **

**_So maybe it’s good, stable._ **

**_In that way, I also have a sensation of displacement. It’s strange because I feel out of place and yet it feels like I’m exactly where I’m meant to._ **

**_The only problem is I should enjoy myself. It’s as made to enjoy. Served on a silver plate. When that lack of enjoyment bothers me I have to remind myself of that floating feeling. That I’m not drowning._ **

**_Still, when you’re floating you can either take yourself up or you can suffocate. You can’t be floating for too long, your body simply can’t handle it. Thankfully, if you haven’t been up on the cloud and then drown you don’t crash. It hurts less._ **

**_It comes over you slowly. Just sneaking up on you. It might even be comforting at first. It’s like when you were younger and bathed. At first, it was warm and therapeutic but if you stayed too long the wetness surrounding you became unwelcoming and like it was holding you down. You got stuck until someone told you to get up._ **

**_Now I’m gonna stop complaining. I presumably won’t enjoy myself but I promise you I won’t drown._ **

**_I’ll be floating._ **

**_Surviving._ **

Damon stared down on the words scribbled down in the book in that familiar handwriting. At some places, the carelessly written words had floated together due to the use of a black permanent marker. It was written two weeks ago.

He knew he shouldn’t be reading it. It was private. 

But he couldn’t help himself. He had noticed for a while now that something was wrong with Graham. Ever since the release of the first single earlier this year, something had obviously been troubling his friend. Damon had not wanted to question it. He wanted to believe that it was because he and Graham had never been at good at communicating. However now after reading the notebook, he realised it was because he had been up on that cloud that Graham mentioned. 

He had been in another haze that had prevented him from noticing how unquestionably awful his friend was feeling. Busy with interviews, parties, Justine, concurring the music industry with the cockiest grin achievable. 

He could come up with endless excuses but for what? He was just attempting to blame everything but himself. Lie to himself to make him feel better instead of facing the facts. His friend was not feeling good and he hadn’t bothered to care. He was really that self-centred.

Finally, after eying through the text again, he closed the book and placed it on the drawer in the hallway. He had accidentally brought the book with him from the studio last evening when he collected all his different notes with lyrics and music. 

Sighing and dragging a hand through his hair he left the book in the hallway. He knew he had to talk with Graham, no matter how big the lump in his stomach was or how mad Graham would be at him for reading his private notes. 

Walking into the kitchen he picked up the phone and tapped in the number he knew by heart. He leaned against the counter and held the black phone tightly in his hand. It felt as the signals shrieked into his ear and he regretted that he hadn’t taken a painkiller when he woke up. 

Still waiting for someone to pick up on the other side Damon looked up at Justine who walked into the kitchen with a distressed tired look on her face. He sent her a fixed smile and turned back his attention to the cord rolling between his fingers. 

Justine sneaked up next to him and placed a soft kiss on his neck. Her breathe was warm and the hand on his waist gave him a sense of blissful satisfaction. Like they were just a regular couple a Saturday morning. The bliss was just momentary. “Who are you ringing?” 

“Graham. Just a thought on a song we’re working on.” He lied and brushed his free hand over his girlfriend’s dark hair. She nodded and went to prepare coffee for the two of them. She looked pretty, her hair short and ruffed around and one of Damon’s t-shirts covering her body. 

After what felt like an eternity someone finally picked up on the other side. Graham let out a tired ‘yeah?’ and Damon guessed he had gone out yesterday after the studio. He had started to do that more and more. He had always been the one of them who drank the most, even though his shy personality masked it better. Lately, however, it had become a habit Damon found more and more alarming. Not that he had pointed it out. He had, of course, been on his own little cloud. 

“Ehrm..” Damon cleared his throat and threw Justine who was reading the paper a glance. She sent him a tight smile and reached for some cigarettes. “I was wondering if I could come over later? I need to speak to you about a thing…” He mumbled the last part and wanted to kick himself at how dense he must’ve sounded. 

He had known Graham for fifteen years, the majority of his life. Graham knew him better than anyone else, or so he considered at least, it had gotten more debatable lately. So here he was acting like a little kid again who didn’t know the in and out of his feelings. 

“Yeah yeah, I suppose..” Graham muttered and Damon bit his lip, nodding slowly, even though Graham couldn’t see him.  
  


*******

“Do you want a cuppa?” Damon followed Graham through the flat and into the kitchen. It was untidy as always with clothes being thrown over chairs and books towering in the windows together with plants that looked like they would crumble any day. The windows had clearly not been opened in days because in the streams of sunshine dust was drifting around and a thick scent of smoke hung in the air. 

“Hm.. yeah” Damon studied one of the papers laying on the kitchen table. It was a copy of the Melody Maker and on the open page was an article about the new term that had been floating around since last year. Britpop. Damon scoffed.

“It’s rubbish y’know.” Grahm said from where he was standing by the kettle. He nodded at the paper with an almost disgusted expression. Damon could do nothing else but nod. Graham was right. He knew that Graham would’ve prefered to stay on the indie scene instead of weekly being urged to perform on Top of the Pops. He was even more aware of Graham’s dismay after reading what he had written. 

Graham handed Damon a creme coloured cup of tea. It looked like one of those pieces his mother would’ve made. Perhaps she had given it to him as a graduation gift or when he moved to London all those years ago. “Ta,” He said and took a sip of the sugary tea. Graham knew precisely how he liked it. 

They sat down by the table opposite of each other and Damon watched quietly how Graham poured some liquor into his dark tea. Once again a thing that informed Damon of Graham’s increasing poor habit.

Damon was the first one to break the silence. He couldn’t tell if it was uncomfortable, just that it didn’t have that peace to it as it had before. He didn’t really know when it changed but it felt as years ago since they could find enjoyment in the silence. “How are you doing?” 

Graham looked upon him with a face Damon couldn’t read. It had become harder lately to read him. He remembered when they were teenagers and he could read him like an open book. See exactly what he felt and what he wanted to say but sometimes couldn’t.

“Fine, I suppose..” He took a sip of his alcohol drenched tea and his face didn’t even react at how bitter the tea must’ve tasted. When they were seventeen something and started to drink his face would scrunch up from just a sip of wine but now it got down like well, a cup of tea. Damon tried to not be nostalgic when he was around his friend but it was hard. Graham was the only thing that constantly reminded him of a time in his life when he had fewer worries and laughed not only out of courtesy. 

“You’re drinking more.” Damon tilted back on his chair and looked at Graham from the bridge of his nose. Graham raised an eyebrow and pushed up his glasses on his nose. In the action of crossing his legs under the table, one of his feet brushed against Damon’s leg and it sent a familiar shiver through his body. 

“Aren’t we all?” He countered with a flat emotionless tone. No sign of humour.

Damon sent him a look. Graham knew exactly what he was talking about. Yes, they were all drinking more but Graham did it in a different, much more disturbing, way. It wasn’t just before gigs as in the early years. It was in the studio, at meetings and clearly for teatime too. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“No, I don’t.” He sounded irritated now and Damon knew that this could easily lead to a dirty interaction if not one of them stepped down with the attitude. “Why did you come here, Damon?” Graham drank the last of his tea and poured up some more liquor. Damon scrunched his nose at the thought of the strong alcohol unmixed.

He stood up and walked over to the hall where he had left his black jacket on the coat hanger before he went back to the kitchen. Without saying anything he dropped the book at the table. The worn-out cover of the book looked even more so in the light of the kitchen lamp. Bringing out every crease in the black leather material. “I got it with me last night accidentally.” He mumbled and sat down again.

Graham just looked at the book and then on Damon. Then back on the book. He reached out with his free hand and slid it over the wooden table to himself.

“You didn’t read anything did you?” 

Damon was quiet. 

“I said, you didn’t fucking read it did you?” Graham was clearly upset by the fact that Damon’s silence answered his question. 

Instead of answering his question out loud Damon cleared his throat and threw out with his arms. “Graham you are clearly not fine.” 

Graham laughed. He set down his mug with a slam and Damon watched with horror how it made a cracking sound before the handle fell off. He studied the little fragile thing wobbling on the table. It looked so precious. Graham pointed at Damon with an angry finger. He laughed again. It was a dreary laugh drowning in sarcasm and into a frustrated grunt. 

“Damon that was not for you to read.” He waved his finger at Damon and a tight smile sat on his lips. It wasn’t a smile though. More like the expression you parent gave you when you had done something really stupid but they couldn’t scream at you. 

“We need to talk about this Graham.” Damon sighed and sat down his now empty mug in a way gentler fashion than Graham had done.

“Oh..” Graham laughed again. “So now you want to talk about it huh?” 

Damon didn’t say anything. The brown-haired man’s voice was raised and he knew whatever he said would not make it better. It was as for everything he said Grahm’s temper got worse. 

“What happened? Did Justine finally realise she should dump your cheating ass? Did the NME write a bad review? Did something happen that made you fucking understand that all of this isn’t as fucking wonderful as you had imagined?” Graham was screaming by now and Damon felt how he wanted to sink through the floor. He could count on one hand how many times he had seen Graham like this throughout their fifteen years of knowing each other. 

Damon looked at his friend. He was still breathing heavily and eyed Damon with an angry look, waiting for him to speak. He thought harder than before what to say to not make anything worse. Did Graham really mean what he said? Damon knew he wasn’t as comfortable with the attention as Damon was, he had never been, but still. He couldn’t really think it was all bad, could he? 

They had it better financially than they had ever had, they all lived in nice flats and they could travel and eat whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. They were living exactly the London life they had dreamt of. Being able to be creative and live on it. Wasn’t that exactly what Graham wanted?

“Graham I think you are unfair now. You can’t say it’s been all bad.” He looked around the kitchen as to indicate for Graham how good he was having it. The high ceilings, big windows and luxurious kitchen. Despite being drowned in things making it look a bit messy it was still what a lot of people dreamt of. 

Graham groaned and threw back his head. “Damon, you don’t understand do you?” His voice was still higher than usual but to Damon’s relief, he wasn’t screaming anymore. He sighed and looked Damon in the eyes. “You have never understood.” 

“No, but it’s really fucking hard for me to understand if you don’t speak to me.” He didn’t want to swear at Graham because he knew it was not him who seemed to be on the verge of a breakdown, it was Graham.

“How should I speak to you? Huh?” He looked like he wanted to laugh again. “Damon I can’t remember the last time the two of us actually spoke to each other.” 

“We speak to each other all the time.” They do, right? He tried to recall the last time they had a genuine conversation with each other that wasn’t related to practical band stuff. He couldn’t come up with any and before he knew it Graham spoke again.

He groaned again at the, to him, stupidity of Damon’s words. “Damon speaking to you when you’re high as a kite does not count.” He threw Damon a look. “I can’t remember the last time we spoke to each other and your pupils had a normal size or your nose not bleeding from too many lines of whatever your new friends provide you with.” 

Damon opened his mouth to say something but Graham put up his hand to stop him before he could say anything. He shut his mouth and sank back in his seat to listen to what Graham had to say. That was why he came here after all. To figure out what was wrong with Graham. Now it seemed to be no stop to him though. 

“I know you have Justine now.” Now, Damon, was the one that wanted to groan, did he really need to bring her up again? He might not have been aware of all Graham’s feelings the last time but he was aware of the fact that Graham was not the fondest of Justine. Not that he could blame him, he and Graham had always fooled around so there was no surprise to him that Graham was the coldest towards Justine when they got together. Still, he’s always been polite about it, he’s been polite about all Damon’s girlfriend. He was a very polite type Graham. 

“So I have accepted that you won’t be with me anymore.” He looked down in the table and picked at the uneven board. It hurt inside Damon to see Graham like this and all he wanted was to embrace him. Not that he guessed that was what Graham wanted.

He continued. “But it’s really hard to accept that when I know..” He took a long breath. “That you are still cheating on her.” He sent Damon a look as if to tell him that he knew all about it. That he couldn’t lie to him to convince him. 

“Because I realise then that it’s not because of her that you’re not with me.” His voice was breaking. “And then I can’t help but think it’s me who’s wrong. That you don’t want to be with me.” 

His words hurt Damon. He didn’t know what hurt the most though, seeing him being so hurt or that he deep down knew Graham was right with everything he said. This wasn’t the glamorous no-problems-in-the-world kind of life he had imagined. He had worked himself to exhaustion, fallen down in a bad spiral of alcohol consumption and unconscious cheating and numbing drug use. He was surrounding himself with superficial people who couldn’t care less about him and lost his best friend in the process. 

Damon knew he had to say something. Just, what was there to say? It was not like he could deny what Graham said being true. Because now Graham knew that Damon knew and the last thing he should do then is try to lie. Even if that would perhaps make him feel better. God, it was so easy to lie. He had done it for so long now, to everyone, that it almost happened without him thinking of it. 

“Graham..” He started off but the look Graham sent him was enough for him to go quiet again. He seemed so conflicted and disappointed. Like he never wanted to speak to him again. 

“Damon you can leave now. I’ll see you in the studio.” Graham’s voice was quieter now and he looked down at his fingers clutching the broken mug handle.

The sun was shining brightly through the window and Damon wanted to laugh at the irony of the friendly sun gleaming on their skin and birds singing in Graham’s backyard. Sometimes you just wanted the environment to relate to your mood, maybe to not make the contrast painfully obvious.

He looked around the kitchen and then back at Graham. His posture was slumped and shoulders not moving, it almost seemed like he wasn’t breathing. 

Damon leaned closer over the table and placed a hand over Graham’s. He didn’t move. His eyes were still turned down and Damon attempted to wrap his hand around Graham’s but he wouldn’t let him.

“I said you can leave Damon.” He mumbled and Damon furrowed his eyebrows. Graham’s voice seemed almost tiny. Completely helpless. 

“No.” He said and wrapped his warm hands around Graham’s cold. Graham exhaled and gazed out the window. He was silent and Damon recognised the look on his face. He was thinking. 

It hurt Damon to think of how Graham must feel. All the feelings overflowing his head. How he must have felt like this for a long time and not found a way to express it. It hurt, even more, to think of his friend obviously not feeling comfortable with opening up about his feelings to him. Was he really that bad of a friend?

“Why?” 

“Why what?” 

Graham looked upon him with a painful look on his face. “Why does it have to be like this?” 

His soft face reminded Damon of a younger boy. A boy with less life experience, who hadn’t been damaged by fame and people’s never-ending thirst to know everything about you. 

“I don’t know.” He confessed with a sigh. He wanted to tell Graham that he had given up on trying to understand or get a hold of it all long ago. Maybe it would comfort Graham a little, or not at all. Probably the latter. Graham had always been a thinker, constantly overthinking every situation. In some circumstances, it had been beneficial in contrary to Damon’s carefree attitude. Had saved them form minor catastrophes. 

“You’re right,” Graham said after a while of silence. His face scrunched up in dismay and he looked down on their hands wrapped together. How Damon’s tanner hand wrapped around his pale one. Damon’s delicate fingers that brushed against Graham’s distorted ones, from hours of guitar playing. “I’m not fine.” 

He stood up and released his hand from Damon’s. Looking a bit stressed he walked over to the couch in the living room that was attached to the kitchen. He sat down with a thud and reached for the cigarettes on the table in front of him. With almost shaking hands he lit the cigarette and leaned back in the soft fabric. He threw his head back and exhaled the grey smoke.

Damon watched him from the kitchen table with a concerned face. Graham’s striped t-shirt looked big on his upper body and his jeans were clearly only held up by his belt. Graham had always been a lean person but there was something unnatural with how his collarbones poked out more than usual and his abdomen turned inwards when he sat down.

There was a long moment of silence. Neither of them said anything for a while and Graham finished his cigarette only to light another one. Damon stood up and with soft steps, he moved to sit down next to Graham on the green couch. He reached for the cigarettes and lit one after placing it between his lips. 

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this Day.” It seemed like a confession and Damon looked down on his jeans with a furrowed expression. He didn’t know what to say. 

Instead of saying anything Damon put down his cigarette in the ashtray and turned to face Graham. He looked sad. Damon threw his arm behind Graham’s back and pulled him close to him. Graham’s head rested against Damon’s chest and he tried to keep his breath steady when he felt Graham wrap one arm around his waist.

It was long ago since they were this close. This closeness couldn’t be compared to a quick shag or blow job by a random person in a random flat. He had longed after this closeness for so long without even knowing it. Maybe he was crashing from his cloud.

Damon leaned back in the couch and pulled Graham with him. They stayed like that. Damon embracing Graham with his arms and Graham’s head buried in Damon’s shirt. They didn’t say anything and all Damon could feel was the warmth of Graham’s breath against his chest.

“I feel like I’m drowning Damon.” It was a barley audible mumble. Graham’s voice was weak and it sounded like it would break any moment. Like the absolute last weight closing him had been lifted and all his feelings escaping in a way that may be scaring him. 

It broke Damon. To hear how his friend was falling apart and that it was too late for him to do anything about it. That maybe if he hadn’t been so full of himself and his meaningless life he had noticed it earlier. He could’ve been there for him. He could’ve saved him from drowning. 

Graham let out a sniffing sound and his grip around Damon’s waist tightened. The shaking started of as barely visible but quickly evolved into a violent movement. Damon felt his shirt getting wet. 

Softly he pulled Graham up so he was sitting up. They were close to each other and he watched his best friends wet face with furrowed brows. He leaned closer, stroke his dark hair. It was short and not as thick and soft as a couple of years ago. But the feeling of his hair between Damon’s fingers still brought back the happiness of the memories from that time. 

The first kiss he placed below Graham’s eye. He closed his eyes and Damon caught one of the tears slipping down his cheek. He tasted the salt of his tears and continued to place small soft kisses around his face. His eyelids, pink cheeks, pale forehead, cute nose and corner of the mouth. Finally leaning away a bit Graham opened his eyes to look at him.

His eyes were red and lashes still wet from the tears. Damon placed a hand on his cheek and leaned forward to put their lips together.

It was a soft kiss, like the ones they had shared when they were younger and less distressed. Like the first one by the river, after one of their first gigs together or one from the days they went to the sea in -91. He stroke Graham’s cheek again and looked into his eyes. “I love you.” He whispered and Graham looked down. He gently lifted Graham’s face with his fingers and looked him in the eyes.

“I will not let you drown.”   
  
  



End file.
